


Whispers shouldn't be that loud

by WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Coming Out, Cuties, F/M, High School AU, Homosexuality, M/M, high school!au, newly gay!stiles, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:18:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey/pseuds/WibblyWobbly_TimeyWimey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Erica sends Stiles' poem to a magazine and it gets published, but no one knows that it's in fact about the loner guy with the serial-killer-stare, Derek Hale. But everyone's dying to find out, and Stiles has a hard time finding out what to do with his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Little bit of truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I saw this prompt on tumblr, and I decided to write it. I haven't written in a long time and I've never actually finished any Teen Wolf fanfic stuff, so there's that.  
> Also, please note that English is not my primary language. I don't tend to have any mistakes apart from the occasional typos, but I don't know a lot about life in America, so I might've gotten something wrong.
> 
> Enjoy loves xx

He remembers that it hurt. Looking at him hurt. Not only because he was way out of Stiles' league, and he knew his pining was useless, but because he reminded Stiles of everything he would like to forget, _thank you very much_. Like for example how Stiles was about as straight as a flag in a storm or how his limps were always flailing everywhere or how he was so awkward, and small and insecure standing next to the glorious wonder that was Derek Hale. Yes, looking at him definitely hurt. But it didn't stop him from doing it.

"Stilinski!", Stiles' head shot up at the sound of the teacher calling his name. He'd gotten in enough trouble for a lifetime just this semester, with Scott's whole plan to get popular, and it would take just one more detention for his dad to get _very_ angry.  
"Hmm? Can you repeat?", he asked, trying to mask his embarrassment as everyone was starring at him. Awesome, the great Stiles Stilinski got in trouble again, for the entertainment of you all - now stop staring! Maybe he always acted like he couldn't care less what people thought about him, but that wasn't exactly true. He just had a lot of time to practice his pokerface.  
"If you would be so kind as to get your behind dragged up here and read your undoubtedly soppyy teen problems poem for us, we would all be very happy", his teacher responded with a sarcastic smirk. Stiles groaned. He was pretty sure that Mrs. Wehler wasn't allowed to talk to them like that, but with Coach and all it really didn't seem like BHHS cared how their teachers talked to the students. Seeing no way out he picked up his notebook, the pages filled with word-vomit, poor sketches and second rank poetry, and made his way up to the blackboard, slowly turning to face the other students who were still looking at him, like his humiliation was their personal source for entertainment.  
"Do I really have to-? God this is awkward", Stiles mumbled, shaking his head and pulling his thoughts together. There was no way out, he might as well get it over with.  
"Um, well, I wrote this poem over Thanksgiving break under the influence of _a lot_ of adderall and it's called 'School'. So.. Here goes nothing.", he took a deep breath, clutching his notebook in his hand, trying desperately not to look up at that one boy in the back of the glass, the one the poem was actually about.

"In the sea of desks there's talk of bags and games, and long pipes that leak dreams with the strike of a match. And there's loudness to the whispers I hear. Whispers shouldn’t be that loud, should they?", he held his breath for a moment, letting his eyes wander over his silent crowd, observing his fellow students. "There's a boy over there who everyone knows and men without ears who will stand by the door for a price. In long hallways, there are angry mobs of dwarves and rats and one. Single. Angel.", Stiles took a deep breath once again looking out at the crowd, trying not to look at anyone in particular. Most of the students where staring at him, except for those who never listened anyway. Stiles swallowed, turning to look at his teacher who looked absolutely furious.  
"Wha- It wasn't that bad!", Stiles protested, clutching his notebook to his chest. His father had liked it any way. And his friends. Had they all been lying?  
"Do you think I was born yesterday Stilinski? The rules are very straight forward - no copying!", the teacher exclaimed to a confused Stiles.  
"I literally, honest to God, have no idea what you're talking about", Stiles answered, quite damn sure he had wrote the poem. Or? Maybe he had subconsciously stolen someone else's work?  
A magazine was thrown his way, and with a frown he opened to page 14 as his teacher asked him to. There, black on white, was his poem printed. Confused, Stiles looked at the author. 'Sent in by Erica Reyes, written by Stiles Stilinski", it read. "But I did write this. It says so right here", he showed Mrs. Wehler, who had to face her own failure. With a sigh he handed back the magazine and went back to his seat in the absolute back of the class, trying to hide his face from the nosy students. He was going to fucking murder Erica.

***

"How could you?"  
"Oh come on, it was awesome, and obviously I'm not the only one who thinks so. You got your first poem published, light up!", Erica said and nudged Stiles with a wide smile. Stiles continued to scowl but couldn't help but smile. It was absolutely impossible to be mad at Erica.  
"I agree with Erica by the way", Lydia pointed out before taking a bite of her salad. Stiles felt out-ruled by the combined power of the females and decided to keep his mouth shut and his eyes on his plate.

"So, who was it about any way?". Stiles choked on his fries, hearing the unwanted question. He sent Isaac a death glare.  
"I'm just gonna pretend you didn't ask."  
"Oh come on, we all want to know, right guys?", Isaac looked around and the others muttered sounds of agreement.  
"Come on Stilinski.", he continued.  
"Isaac, shut the fuck up or I swear to God I'll stop that pretentious scarf of yours so far down your throat that you'll choke and die a horrible death", Stiles fumed, to everyone's surprise. Not that they'd never heard Stiles saying whatever was on his mind, but the reaction was slightly sudden and shut everyone up effectively.

***

"Nice bagpack, faggot", Stiles turned his head to see one of the basketball idiots high-fiveing his friends with a smirk.  
"It's called human rights, jackass!", Stiles replied with a scowl, eyeing his white bagpack that he had chosen to decorate with the LGBTQ rainbow. For _support_ of course. Not because he was the biggest gay to ever gay.

"Who's the poem about?"  
"-Jesus fucking Christ!", Stiles jumped back from Lydia, who had smacked her hand on his locker. Over the past few days it had become a thing for the gang to ask Stiles who the poem was about at every moment available. He absolutely hated it.  
"The poem is about Jesus? That's a bit weird... But who am I to judge?", Lydia raised an eyebrow at a sighing Stiles.  
"No it's not _about_ Jesus, Lydia", he answered, opening his locker and ignoring her.  
"I will find out, you know? But for now, come on, we're late for movie day!", Lydia smiled and grabbed Stiles by the arm to drag him out to the parking lot, where they got in Stiles' jeep. It was Friday which meant movie day with the gang. Isaac had promised to bring a fair amount of his father's alcohol, seeing as the man had finally died half a year ago, leaving a house full of bad memories and good liquor for Isaac. It would be a lie to say that anyone was _really_ sorry the horrible man was dead.

"Isaac found a very expensive cognac", Lydia told Stiles as she wiggled her eyebrows. Stiles jokingly put a fist in the air.  
"Well, it will be a pleasure to get immensely shitfaced off of that old jerk's very expensive cognac", Stiles said feeling that the world was kind of, sort of, fair after all. He kept his eyes on the road as Lydia continued to talk about all of the gossip at the school. He didn't really listen. He couldn't care less about how Linda was with Greenberg, but then Kira had sex with Greenberg, or some other stupid problems. Until he heard the name 'Hale'.  
"What did you say?", he asked Lydia, looking at her quickly before looking back at the road.  
"I said that Hale is a flaming homosexual. Apparently some guys accidentally knocked his books out of his hand and found some porn or whatever", she answered absentmindedly as she applied lip gloss to her already perfectly glossy lips. Stiles spluttered and was about to answer, his face hot red, when Lydia cut him off. "Oh, don't even bother, I know you're as gay as they come. Why else would I tell you?", she said with a snort, only resulting in Stiles spluttering even more. She knew? But then again, she was right, he was very gay. Maybe he wasn't quite as good at hiding it as he thought?  
"Do the others know?", he asked quietly, returning his gaze to the road. He wasn't completely sure he was ready to come out of the closet yet, but he also knew that Lydia wouldn't force him out before he was ready. He actually felt a bit relieved that Lydia knew and apparently didn't care at all.  
"Well, Scott's probably guessed it, what with you practically having been joined by the hip since birth, Boyd probably knows too, because he's the quiet observer and Erica is wishing. But I think Isaac, Allison and Jackson are oblivious", she answered with a smile, patting Stiles on the cheek. He sighed. Okay, so it wasn't that bad. Boyd wouldn't tell anyone, and even though Scott couldn't keep a secret if it depended on his life, Stiles was pretty sure he wouldn't tell anyone something like this - he probably hadn't even thought about it, because knowing Scott he wouldn't think it's a big deal.  
"Good. We're here", he said, effectively changing the subject as he parked the car in front of Scott's house. Melissa had an evening/night shift, so they could drink without anyone noticing. As they entered the house they quickly understood that the others had started without them, as a laughing Isaac stumbled in to them when he opened the door. He gave them both a big hug, taking a gulp of his beer bottle at the same time.  
"Well, I see the party has started!", Stiles smiled and grabbed Isaac's beer for himself.

 

"Truth or dare, Stiles?", Boyd asked, drawing everyone's attention to the drunk boy. He was sitting on the floor, the sign of a bunch of dares very clear on him - for example the egg that was still in his hair. Disgusting.  
"Um.. Truth", he chose. He had dodged it all night, but he really didn't want to drink any more ketchup/banana smoothies, so truth it was.  
"Who was your poem about?", Boyd sent him a challenging look. Stiles chocked on his cognac. Boyd was the only one who hadn't asked him before, but apparently alcohol made the boy talk.  
"Oh for God's sake..", Stiles mumbled, contemplating whether he should just tell them. Why did he even keep it secret in the first place? With the alcohol in his system he wasn't thinking clearly, and he finally gave in to all of the pleads from his friends.  
"Derek..", he mumbled. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. "It was about Derek Hale".  
Suddenly everyone fell silent, looking at Stiles. No one was saying anything. They were all just staring at him.  
"Loner Derek? As in serial-killer-stare Derek? The incredibly scary Derek?", Allison asked, surprising Stiles. He honestly didn't think she was afraid of anyone or anything. She was a real badass. If Derek scared _her_...  
"He's not that bad!", Stiles protested, trying to come up with an argument, but falling short. Okay yes, so he was all of those things that Allison said, but there was more to him than just that. Like when he sometimes exchanged comments about how stupid and incompetent their teacher (or the other students for that matter) could be during class, or how Stiles had totally seen him reading Shakespeare once, or how he was so unaware of his own attractiveness and the attention he got, or how oblivious he was when people spoke to him, because he didn't really interact with anyone but his sister since his family died, and he therefore came off as offensive. There was so much more to him, that Stiles' couldn't even express it in words. It wasn't just his hair or his eyes or his abs, it was him and all he was. And Stiles was very gone in Derek, that was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments/everything is very appreciated! I took a bit of inspiration from both 'Stuck in love' and '10 things I hate about you' - great films! Also, it was all written while listening to the wonderful songs of Birdy, she is fantastic.
> 
> Apparently there has been some confusion about me crediting, so I'll repeat it - I took inspiration from both 'Stuck in love' and '10 things I hate about you' _and_ the idea comes from a promt from Tumblr. The poem in the text is also from 'Stuck in love', hence having drawn inspiration from the movie. I hope this ends all confusion, because I really didn't intend for anyone to think that I stole someone else's work.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, by the way, I don't have a beta, so do tell me if anything is horribly wrong! Initially - I've decided to take prompts, if anyone wants something written. You can just comment here or message me on [Tumblr](http://www.howlingteenwolf.tumblr.com).


	2. Liquid confidence (nothing to lose)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After unexpected positive feedback and wishes of a sequel I have decided to add another chapter to the story. I hope it can live up to the previous one! :)  
> Remember that I'm not from America, so everything I know about the schoolsystem and such, is stuff I have from the internet.  
> Also I don't have a beta, but I do have word spellcheck, and that's a bud who (almost) always has your back! Enjoy xx

Exactly a week from the revelation Stiles was standing in Lydia's bedroom, wondering why he _ever_  told his friends anything. They had basically made it their new mission to get Stiles and Derek together, if not for his happiness then just to get him to shut the fuck up about Derek's perfect ass (even though they all had to admit that it was pretty fucking fantastic). Anyway, that had led to Lydia throwing a big party at her house only for the sake of Stiles getting in Derek's pants. Admittedly, it had its perks to have crazy rich friends.

But that was also the reason why Stiles was on the verge of a panic attack. Lydia had used legitimate money on this party. The alcohol, the spa she gave her parents to make sure they were out of the house and _Stiles' clothes_. He was unsure he had ever brought clothes this expensive. And he looked so silly, like he tried way too much, and oh God, why would Derek even like him, when Derek was all hot and cool and Stiles was just a gangly, awkward guy who really wasn't all that hot, and oh God, he was going to get rejected and it would be so awkward, and Monday everyone at school would know. Which made Stiles think of one more problem. Why would Derek even come? The guy was a loner!

"Oh my God Lydia, he's not even going to show up!” he exclaimed, turning around and looking at Lydia his eyes full of panic. Lydia carefully placed her curling iron on her dressing table, and dragged Stiles in for a long and comforting hug.

"If you ruin my curls I'm gonna murder you", she said, drawing Stiles' attention to just how hard he was holding her. With a shaky breath he released his arms a bit but continued hugging Lydia.

"This was a really bad idea Lydia. Either he's going to reject me or most likely he won't even show up. And I look silly in these clothes, trying to be all hot and stuff...” he mumbled, ignoring Lydia's comment about not ruining her hair and buried his head in her strawberry blonde locks. He knew it took her ages to look at good as she did - people didn't just wake up like that - but he really needed a hug.

"Stiles. Stiles, listen to me", Lydia pushed Stiles off of her, but kept her hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look her in the eyes. "Stop with the insecurities. It is _not_  hot. You look fine, hell, if you weren't gay I would totally tap that, and I talked with Cora, she's making sure that Derek turns up", she told him. She sent him an uplifting smile, and even though Stiles was still 100% sure he was gonna fuck everything up, he felt a bit better. Until he realized what she had said.

"You told Cora? What the hell Lydia? She's so going to tell Derek, or worse, tease me with it, you know how she is!” Stiles cried, the panic returning to his eyes and his voice. It wasn't that he didn't like Cora, actually he had a pretty good relationship with the younger Hale, but she was also a very fierce warrior queen (well, not literally), and it was impossible to know, where you had her. Who knew what she was going to do with the information?

"Don't worry, I reminded her of the photo I have where she makes out with Greenberg. It shut her up", Lydia reassured him, checking her of course flawless nail polish. Stiles exhaled relieved. No one in their right mind - especially not Cora - wanted to be caught dead making out with Greenberg. That was just... Embarrassing.

"Okay, I'll, I'll calm down. It's gonna be okay", Stiles mumbled, more to himself than to Lydia. He turned to look in the mirror again, looking over his dark,  _very_  slim-fit[jeans](http://www1.macys.com/shop/product/7-for-all-mankind-luxe-performance-slimmy-slim-straight-leg-jeans-midnight-water?ID=1006717&CategoryID=11221&LinkType=#fn=sp%3D1%26spc%3D394)and the black[button-down](http://www1.macys.com/shop/product/inc-international-concepts-shirt-core-long-sleeve-conway-shirt?ID=755905&CategoryID=20627&LinkType=#fn=sp%3D1%26spc%3D1289)Lydia, Allison and Erica had 'helped' him pick out. He wasn't completely sure that all of that black was his color, and he was more of a plaid or superman t-shirt guy, but the girls kept insisting, so he had eventually given in. The girls probably had a better fashion sense than him anyway. He trailed his hands along the hem of the button-down, chewing on his lower lip. He could do this. He had to do this, after all his friends had done for him. And after all, what did he have to lose? He could only lose the one thing he didn't have, Derek. And even though it would hurt knowing that Derek didn't want him, at least he would be able to get on with his life then and maybe try with someone else, who he actually knew might be interested in him. For example Danny. Okay, so Danny had practically said he wouldn't date Stiles, but he didn't know that Stiles was gay, so maybe?

Ugh, who was he trying to fool? He wouldn't get over Derek soon, just because he rejected him. But there was no point in sitting around and moping - that certainly wouldn't get him anywhere. He took a deep breath, deciding to leave the room and find the others.

 

***

 

He found them sitting in the living room talking loudly. He opened a beer from the table and took a big gulp. No doubt he needed to get some alcohol in his system if he was going to actually ask Derek out.

Erica made a loud wolf whistle when he sat down with them, and the others started laughing.

"Shut up", Stiles mumbled, a blush spreading on his cheeks.

"Oh cheer up. People should start arriving in about half an hour", Isaac responded with a smile. He was seated next to Allison with an arm over her shoulder, which made Stiles frown a bit. Was there something there? Okay, it was some time since Scott and Allison broke up, but he still shot Scott a look before he sat down beside him. Scott just shrugged his shoulders, so Stiles guessed Scott was finally over Allison or at least something like that.

"I'm _so_  nervous guys", Stiles told them all, looking down at his beer before emptying it. He wanted to be sober, so he could actually control himself around Derek, be he also didn't want to be completely sober because then he was sure he would never build up the courage to even talk to Derek.

"Okay, enough with the nerves, a round of shots for everyone! Two for you Stiles.” it was Lydia who had just entered the room looking absolutely fabulous. Stiles couldn't help but see how Scott perked up and his eyes got that glow that used to be reserved for Allison. Scott and Lydia? He certainly hadn't seen that one coming, but if his best buddy was going to go after the strawberry blonde queen Stiles would be first in line to help. The dude really needed to get over Allison, and Lydia was definitely a girl Stiles could approve of.

Two shots were placed before Stiles, and he eyed the glasses skeptically. People tended to take shots of weird things such as clean vodka, something he sure couldn't recommend. 

"One. Two. Three!” they all downed the shots at the same time, Stiles shaking his head violently afterwards. Tequila. He would have preferred some lime and salt with that - and Derek Hale's bare chest.

 

 _Ding dong_.. Stiles started to get up for the door but got shut down by one single look from Lydia. He shrugged it off and continued to talk with his friends about the interesting topic that was Mrs. Wehler and how she and coach shared an almost scary uniformity. For all Stiles knew they could be sister and brother. In fact that wouldn't surprise him.

 

***

 

A few hours and quite a lot of alcohol later, Stiles spotted Derek Hale. He was leaning against the doors of Lydia's house leading to the garden with a beer in his hand and a scowly look on his face. Two younger girls, probably freshmen or something, were talking his ear off in their way too short skirts. Now, short skirts could look good, but when you started actually being able to see the ass - well, maybe that was just a tad overdoing it. Stiles rolled his eyes and made his way over to Derek who looked very uninterested in the girls.

Feeling particularly bold Stiles bent down to the girl who looked more like the 'leader' and whispered in her ear. "You're wasting your time".  He shrugged as the girl turned and looked at her with a look that could kill before she dragged her friend with her to some boys that looked a lot more willing. Stiles turned to Derek and arched his brow.

"You do know the age of consent is 18, right?” he asked jokingly. Derek looked a bit less scowly now that the girls weren't bothering him anymore. Why he hadn't just asked them to go away Stiles didn't know. He was probably too polite. God, was there anything about the guy that wasn't perfect?

"Ah, funny", Derek said, lifting both of his brows. Stiles could feel his smile starting to drop. Oh no, him and his big mouth, Derek probably didn't think he was funny but rather an idiot. "But they're not really my type anyway", Derek continued, shrugging his shoulders and taking a sip of his drink, which was surprisingly not a beer. Stiles hadn't really taken Derek for the cocktail kind of guy, but even he had to admit that cocktails did taste better.

"Oh, who doesn't love a barely teenager in a short skirt?” Stiles shot back, a stupid grin spreading over his face. "What's your type anyway? I haven't ever seen you with anyone?” Stiles questioned. Wow - real smooth Stiles, he thought. Okay, so his moves weren't the best, but Derek didn't seem to mind. Actually he straightened up a bit, and gave Stiles his attention, something Stiles reckoned didn't happen often when people talked to Derek.

"Well", Derek scratched the back of his neck, and it was quite possibly the cutest thing Stiles had ever seen, "guys, to be inappropriately honest. So that's why you've never seen me with anyone. Being gay and BHHS doesn't really blend well", Derek answered. Stiles was close to dropping his jaw. It was probably the longest string of words he'd ever heard come from the guy’s mouth, and it was exactly what he wanted to hear. Could this get any better? Maybe he even had a chance.

"Hah, yea, I know the feeling", Stiles replied, trying to sound and look casual, but ultimately failed as he fell slightly forward and dropped his beer right at Derek's legs, the beer splashing up on both of their legs. "Oh. Oops?” he shrugged. He was honestly well on his way to be drunk, if he wasn't already, and it was hard to care about it. He didn't have a good balance normally, so being drunk just made it so much worse.

 

"Stiles?” he turned his attention back to Derek who sounded like he had tried to catch his attention more than one time.

"Oh, yea?” he replied, stumbling a bit to the left but regaining his balance. All he could think about was how stupid he had to look.

"You look like you need to lie down. Do you know the way to a bed or couch or something?” Derek asked, the concern in his voice sounding very real. Stiles furrowed his brows. No, he felt fantastic. Absolutely, 100 % peachy and perfect.

Oooor, maybe he was feeling a bit dizzy. Oh God, he really hoped he didn't puke all over the gorgeousness that was Derek Hale. No, no he just had to lie down and he would get better, he was sure. And luckily he did know this house as his own.

"Yup", he popped the p, focusing on keeping his balance, "right up the stairs, second door on the left". He focused his gaze on Derek again, as the boy grabbed his arm lightly and started leading the way to Lydia's room. Stiles hadn't realized that Derek asked because he wanted to take Stiles to lie down, but now that he thought about it, it did make very good sense. Oh no, he was making a fool out of himself! This whole party was just so he could land Derek, and he got way too drunk and now Derek had to take care of him. Perfect.

They got to Lydia's room, and Stiles started stripping down without giving it much thought. Derek looked at him with a weird look and a slight blush on his cheeks. Oh. Oh! Stiles blushed violently, trying to suppress a smile.

"I already agreed with Lydia that I'm sleeping here", he explained, trying not to think about the fact that Derek Hale had just blushed over him being half naked.

When he was in nothing but his boxers he pulled back the covers from Lydia's bed, climbing in to it, and laying on his back. Wow, the world really wouldn't stop spinning. He felt a slight panic return as Derek awkwardly went for the door.

"Can you stay a bit? With me?” Stiles asked with a small smile, patting the side of the bed. Derek sat down next to him in an awkward distance. "You can move closer, I'm not going to bite - or vomit on you", Stiles laughed lightly, as Derek moved a bit closer, a smile slowly spreading on his face.

"Can I ask you something, Stiles?” Stiles bit his lower lip and nodded slowly. "Am I the angel in your poem?” Derek asked, the blush returning to his face. His eyes were fixed on his hands in his lap, and Stiles changed his mind. _That_  was the most adorable thing he had ever seen. Stiles realized that it might be the only time he would have the courage to actually tell Derek, so half drunk and half asleep, without really knowing what he was doing he made a small agreeing sound.

"Yea. You are the angel in my poem” and a small, shy smile spread on his face as Derek's eyes lit up, and he also had a small smile. That was when Stiles realized, that maybe all that scariness and lonerness was really a way to protect himself. Maybe Derek was just as shy and awkward as Stiles. But there was surely nothing awkward about the way Derek leaned down and pressed his lips against Stiles'. And there was nothing awkward about how Derek ender under the covers with Stiles.

And if they did end up doing things Lydia would never have allowed in her bed... Well, they were the only ones to know (and the gang, when they walked in on them in the morning, Erica and Isaac wolf whistling loudly).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened! Woohoo, I'm way more satisfied with this chapter than the first one. Omfg, Stiles and Derek are such qt patooties <3  
> Kudos/comments/whatever is very much appreciated, and also you're all very awesome <3  
> (Also, yes, my chapter titles are You Me At Six songs, shhhh) I'm going to a concert with them soon, askslkdjs  
> I take prompts at my [Tumblr](http://www.howlingteenwolf.tumblr.com).


End file.
